What you have to do, what you want to do
by Sparnas Vleugel CrKnight
Summary: Elena should be looking for Stefan, but when electricty sparks so strong and bright, so breath-takingly longing with Damon, should she hang on or let go? Or does she even get to choose? Delena.
1. Elena

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters._

_Author's Note: First Delena Fic. Critics welcome. Enjoy~ :D_

**Chapter 1 **

_**Elena**_

It has happened all in a sudden, just a split second, faster than a short gasped breath, a blink of an eye, or the thump of a hyperactive heartbeat.

The vampire, who had been pinned on the ground firmly, pounced towards Elena. But before he could touch her, he slowly slumped onto the ground, with a wooden stake penetrating his heart. His predatory eyes still trained on Elena, even when his face turned ashen. Elena could not help taking a step back, and letting out a ragged breath. The vampire finally landed with a thud, revealing his killer with an emotionless mask, the one that strode across the dead vampire without looking down and grasped Elena by the shoulders tightly.

"Are you alright?" Damon's brows furrowed slightly, his strained voice betraying a trace of the underlying concern. "Look at me and answer. Are you alright?" He shook Elena when she did not answer.

"Yeah, yeah, I am fine." Elena answered a bit shakily. She has lost count of how many times she has witnessed killings and deaths, but it was never going to be easier.

"Told you should have stayed in the house." Damon quirked the corner of his mouth, his words sarcastic but lack an actual bite. "But someone has to be the brave heroine, I totally understand."

"Have your fun, Damon. But you shouldn't have killed him; he is our only lead to finding Stefan." Elena kneeled down, in the hope of finding any details that may give them a clue in their search. "Did he tell you anything at all?" She let out a sigh, tired of losing the track once again after they have come so close.

The conversation fell into silence when Damon did not respond. Elena looked up into Damon's dark, unfathomable eyes. There was a hint of anger lingering.

"So, I shouldn't have saved you and instead should have left you to death, just to see where my dear little brother has hidden?" The anger was boiling beneath the sarcastic words, and they stung just as the dark eyes bore into Elena's.

"Look, Damon, we have been searching for Stefan for months now, and when there is a chance for a breakthrough, we cannot just discard it. Sometimes we have to take a risk. We may as well have to start again now. I just want to bring Stefan back." Elena put her hands on her hips, and stared back. She felt drained, exasperated, after all the chasing and confronting had turned out to be nothing. The last thing she wanted now was a fight with her ally, with Damon.

Damon took his time to answer. Instead, he took a step closer silently, into Elena's personal space, until their faces only inches away, until their breaths almost mingling.

"Oh, I didn't realize that you are already so deeply in love with him that you are going to give your life away." He commented sarcastically, his voice lower than usual, his trademark lopsided smile dominating his face.

"Sacrificing for your _soul mate, _hmm? How much are you willing to give then?" He spat on the word soul mate as if it burned him, eyes widening in a comical effect, head tilting to the right, daring her to answer.

Elena just took a second. "Everything."

Damon froze.

There was something that Elena thought herself imagining. When she looked Damon in his eyes, she could see they have changed, into something softer. She could not be sure, but she thought there was a trace of hurt, a tint of pleading, a hint of longing. They were nothing Damon would have shown at all, and it did terrify her a bit to see him so open and… vulnerable. This was not the Damon she had known for so long. Elena wanted to reach out, to wipe the sadness and anguish away, to give him everything she had, to ease the aching somehow made present in her chest. Electricity tinged around her fingers, urging her to lean in closer, telling her one touch, one touch was all it needed to end this suffering.

It had been long before she caught herself thinking all these. She clamped her fist hard, shoving every single thought down.

"And this is not the point, Damon." Elena snapped, in a stronger way than she had planned, in defense of what she really did believe – everything between Stefan and her. She turned away. "I am just asking you not to so keenly kill someone who has information next time. I don't want to lose a lead again. And did he tell you anything?" She did not need a questioning of who she loved now, or anytime. Of course it would be Stefan; it had always only been Stefan.

And at this point, Elena thought she saw something broken in Damon's eyes, and it was beyond the point of mending.

"I do what I have to do." Damon replied, cold and void of any emotions. Elena could not see through his pretense, or anything in his eyes; he had put up the wall again.

"And no." Damon looked back at her with dangerous eyes after a prominent pause. "Nothing at all."

And then he was gone.

Elena took a deep breath at the mess of her heart, and of the reality, before going back to the Salvatore mansion.

Damon sat by the fireplace, a perfect marble statue except his hand gently rocking the glass of scotch, glistening in the light of dancing fire. His face betrayed nothing, still, cold, lifeless. He was looking intently at the fire, lashing, brightening, and waning. He must have heard Elena coming over the door, but if he did he did not say or do anything that indicates him knowing her presence.

"Damon, I am sorry." Elena whispered, but she knew Damon could hear her. "I know you were just trying to save me, and I have blamed you for killing that vampire. Sorry, and… thank you."

Damon did not stir a bit, not a nod of head, not the slightest twist of fingers. The deafening silence was shrouding them; the constant flickering of fire was not enough to come between the two. There was an unspoken silent tension stretching, tying them together, pulling them closer, but no one knew when the thin string would snap, and then what will happen.

Elena stepped closer into the living room tentatively, without a sound. She just hoped Damon would have done something, anything – giving her one of his crooked smile, a quirk of eyebrow, words dripping sarcasm, or even shouting and breaking things. But not this, not silence, not this...emptiness.

The glass landed on the table with a clear clank. Damon put down his scotch, and slowly rose. Elena had thought he was going to leave the room, and leave her alone. But everything took a turn when he caught her eyes and slowly approached in her direction.

It was a Damon that was totally different from the usual flirty, charming or even cruel self. Or was this the true Damon?

Every step Damon took squeezed air out of Elena's chest, and she could not look away, when his dark eyes held hers. Every step was agonizingly slow, as if he was giving her every chance to run away, but she could not. Something has been clawing at her insides, and it hurt when that almost tore her apart. She did not know what that really was, but it was now rearing its head, anchoring her firmly to the ground, to the approaching, familiar yet an entrancing total stranger.

When he again stood so close to her, she let out a breath she had no idea she was holding all along, and backed down, against the wall. Damon followed, and put his hands against the wall just next to the sides of her head, trapping her between his body and the wall. There was no way she could escape and evade what was going to happen, but did she really want so?

"Am I really that frightening that you always have to back down?" His voice was lower than usual, rumbling in his chest and vibrating in the air between them. There was a familiar smile, but with a bitterness that was never present until now. Elena did not respond; she did not know the answer, she did not want to know.

Damon's right hand came up and lightly stroke across her cheek with his thumb. The touch was feathery light, but the electricity sparked so strong that it took her breath away. Before she knew it, she had leant into the touch, her lips parted just so slightly. Her heart tumbled a beat too fast. Her face flushed a touch too warm. She could not walk away.

"Or was it something else you were afraid of confronting? Like..." Damon took her chin in one hand. "...Your feelings for me?" Then he bent down and kissed her. And every control snapped.

It should not be happening, but somehow it felt right, it sated the dull ache in her heart. It did not come as a surprise, as if Elena had known it coming all along, and she did not escape. She was too tired to do what was supposedly right; she gave in to the urge and passion coursing through her own body. She kissed back.

She snaked her arms around Damon's neck, pulling him closer. His fingers knitted through her hair, his hand finally settling on her neck. It felt perfect. Elena knew it would complicate things, but right now with Damon kissing her, her ration and mind and will all crumbled to dust, and she could just ignore the complexity right now.

Until she heard a tiny noise of unfastening, and felt the weight of her necklace lifted. Elena pulled away and her eyes opened in surprise, just in time to meet those mesmerizing eyes, and saw the blue pupils blown wide.

She could not fight. Her mind was too weak to fight without the protection.

Before she fainted in Damon's arms, Elena thought she heard something, but she had already drifted off.


	2. Damon

_Author's note: Enjoy~! :D Thanks for everyone who leaves a review or adds this story to alert. They really make my day as this is the first story I have ever posted here :D!_

**Chapter 2**

_**Damon**_

He grasped the necklace tightly in his hand. He knew the silver heart adorned with ancient sigil was leaving its mark on his hand, searing on his flesh. He could feel smoke slithering out from his fist, from where the metal touched his hand. But he could not care less. The pain was nothing, compared with what he had been through, and compared with what his _heart_ had been through. And what he was planning would make him go through it all over again.

He brought the heart closer to his face. The skin beneath was almost blood-red and raw, and it continued to sizzle. But he could not throw it away. Instead he clamped his fist again, and took a deep breath, his brows knit tightly together. Apart from the repugnant herbal smell, there was the sweet scent that belonged to Elena, one and only. When he closed his eyes, he could almost fool himself that Elena was there with him, beside him. The scent twirled and lingered, refusing to go, resolving to stay. It would always be here, scorched on his heart, branded on his soul. He could almost imagine Elena kissing him again, and this time she was truly his.

His eyes snapped open. He had made his decision, and things he had decided was never going to change. With one last look, he stuffed it in the inner left breast pocket of his jacket.

He strode widely to the cupboard in his room, and rummaged through the contents until he found something cold and firm, and pulled them all out at once.

They were two swords, the blades glittering under the light. They were made back in the times while he was living and breathing under the sunlight, when he was still a human. They belonged to Stefan and him, when they had their first try of duel back in those innocent days.

Damon grasped Stefan's sword by the shaft, the other hand slightly brushing the newly polished blade. His gaze trailed across the blade and stared into the darkness outside the window of his room. There was just a faint trace of a crooked smile on his face.

Just let everything end the way it starts.

The winner takes it all.

"Hello, little brother. I have seen that you have made a mess about yourself." Damon commented with a quirk of his eyebrow on the vampire who had been previously holding a man in his iron grip, and slowly tearing off his limbs, while gulping down the blood gushing from the puncture wound on his neck. "Or is it _the Ripper _now? Just don't be too mad when you finish with him and rip off his head. Last time when you did and left the re-made body, we just unfortunately came across. The head tended to make quite a fuss when it fell from when it should be." He shrugged, talking in a tone that may as well be used when talking about breakfast (which indeed it is) or just chitchat.

"What are you doing here?" Stefan snarled, his face contorted in annoyance. "Ah, that crap told you I would be here, wasn't it?" He almost rolled his eyes. He dropped the unfinished body as the instinct of defense flared.

"Brilliant deduction. But well, I am actually coming here to pick a fight. It is getting rather bored." Damon faked a sigh which he knew Stefan would have seen right through. His smug smile still plastered on his face. "I think I do deserve some credits after spending all the time in the previous months just trying to follow your trail. How about a deal, little brother? A brotherly duel is way more interesting in fighting the originals I must say. You know, they are just like cheating, with their almighty power. The fight is over in a blink. I don't even get to stretch myself." Another tug at the eyebrow, an obvious signal of challenge.

A sick and uncharacteristically crazed laugh wretched out from Stefan's throat, the leaves of the trees shuddering at the hair-raising sound.

"You think you can beat me, Damon?" The blood-red eyes now filled with the burning craze. Another laugh roared. "I am not the pathetic vampire feeding on animal blood when we met for the first time in the modern era. You told me yourself, didn't you? Not feeding on human made me weak, hmm? Do you still remember? I doubt if you do feed as much as me though. And being the elder does not do you any good; we are turned at the same time."

"Oh well, I must admit that I did not feed too often, but that is only because of your pretty brave girlfriend Elena being _so _enthusiastic dragging me around and enjoying my company. And I must remind you that I am always more experienced, as an elder brother, as your elder brother, whether in a fight, or... just to court a girl." Damon strolled leisurely while delivering his words. His eyes barely met Stefan's until he finished.

Stefan flinched just so ever slightly, and humanity flashed in his eyes for a split second. It was way too fast for any man to have caught his expressions, but Damon was not any man. He was a vampire, after all.

It was his turn to burst out laughing.

"Ah, my pathetic little brother. You still care about Elena even you immersed yourself in such intense killing." Damon let cruelty make its appearance in his eyes and his voice. "You still love her. It still hurts." He slowly dragged each word out, knowing their impact on the younger man.

"Elena is mine. And I hers." Stefan spat at each word. "There is no way you can come between us, even though I do know that you love her. It would just be Catherine all over again. It is always me that either will choose; even you try so hard, the fact won't change in the slightest." Stefan stared at Damon venomously, striking back with words."

Damon just shrugged, in a nonchalant way that he honestly did not feel. Elena had told me as much - she would give everything to have Stefan back, but did that include him? Including everything that they shared tonight? He had always been able to see through the pretense of others after Catherine, but never Elena.

But that did not matter now. When there was only one left, the winner, he would take everything.

"Confident enough, little brother? You are no longer the same Stefan she had known and dated. Does she know you anymore?" Damon held up his hand when he saw Stefan wanting to respond. "Let's do it the old way, shall we? A duel. Told you I am aching to have a fight. The winner takes it all."

Stefan put on his predatory smile. "And the loser never appears again. Deal." He immediately launched into the fighting stance, his lips curling back to reveal his blood-smeared teeth, his throat letting out a animalistic growl.

"Wait a moment, would you? When I said the old days, I mean with the old methods as well. Can you please behave like a civilized man, little beast? Here, I have brought you a present." He threw Stefan's sword to him, and Stefan caught in a blinding flash.

Stefan's mouth turned up at the corners as he recognized the familiar weapon. "Really? You have kept it in a good condition and polished it as well." There was a trace of mocked surprise.

"Well, thought it would come in handy. The reality proved me right again. Now, shall we?" Damon raised an eyebrow in challenging enquiry.

They faced each other, taking a few steps ahead and bowed. Just like the courtesy required, just like what they did back in the old days.

The once mistaken peace had already vaporized, revealing the tension lurking behind all along. Damon and Stefan never took their eyes off the other, and it was absolute stillness and silence. No words, no actions*, nothing.

Until the cord of stress snapped.

And then they were everywhere, moving in a speed so high that their movement and body blurred. One of them slashed, and the other would block; one of them thrust, and the other would sidestep. They knew each other's moves by heart, and instinctively countered the attack after countless times of practice.

It was an even match. A stalemate.

Their swords met halfway, the blades clanking upon each other. Both sides exerted their forces to the full, but no one got the upper hand. So they split and took a step backward, before plunging forward again.

This time, none of them was willing to back down or defend.

And so this time, both of their swords pierced each other's heart.

_Author's note: I have already finished the story, and there is only one chapter left. Hope this is not too clichéd by your taste! I haven't watched the third season, so if anything goes wrong, please forgive me and tell me where sounds strange :D Critics welcome._


	3. Unknown

What you have to do, what you want to do CrKnight

_Author's note: This is the last chapter of this story. Thanks for everyone who reviewed or added this to story alert. They really made my day :D_

**Chapter 3**

_**?**_

The door creaked as he turned the door knob. There was light inside the Salvatore mansion, but it was eerily quiet. He did not dare breaking the silence. Holding his breath, he slowly stepped inside, and traced the source of the light. He could reach there within seconds, but he was afraid his hope would be crashed into a thousand pieces once everything turned out to be his worst fear.

And there she was, lying on the coach, eyes closed tightly and her body twitching slightly as if in a nightmare. He approached without a single sound, and kneeled by her side. He reached out hesitantly, his hand ghosting over her face, but he could not bring himself to touch, when his hands were tinted with so much blood.

As if on cue, Elena's eyelashes battered and slowly opened, and he backed away almost instantaneously. He froze as he watched her eyes blinking the weariness away, and ration slammed into those luring pupils.

Closing his eyes, he had prepared for the worst. If it was what going to happen, if there had to be a confrontation, then so be it.

For a moment, there were no words exchanged.

And then all he could feel was Elena's body against his, her arms enveloping his own still body. When he opened his eyes, he could see a smile tugged at Elena's face, and all there in her eyes were love and care and longing. Complex emotions, but undoubtedly radiating warmth and inviting.

He relaxed his posture, his hand weaving in her hair. A big smile was threatening to spread across his face. He pulled her closer against his chest; there was no way he was letting her go again. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply, the sweet scent that had and would always only belong to Elena, that had always burnt it way through his consciousness and his soul. One thing that always remained even when he lost himself.

Elena struggled a bit in his embrace to look him in his eyes. And softly she whispered:

"Welcome home, Stefan."

And then they were kissing.

_**Stefan**_

They were then sitting on the coach, with Elena nuzzling close to him. There was nothing needed to be said. They were more than glad to just be in each other's presence, and sense the other breathing, living. This was what he ever wanted indeed.

Elena seemed genuinely tired, and her head rested on his shoulders almost dozing off. Stefan could not feel more happy or satisfied, but there had been a nagging doubt, one that telling him something was off, that it had been way too easy and good to be true.

"Elena..."

"Hmm... Stefan?" Elena mumbled through half-sleep.

"Are you seriously okay with this? I have just come back after leaving for so long, and you just... accepted it without questioning. And... aren't you going to ask about... where Damon is?" Stefan could not help tripping over his last words.

Despite thinking himself preparing for everything, he still could not see this coming. Elena was laughing softly and slowly shook her head.

"How long have you been gone, dummy? It has only been a few days since you went to Ipswich. Well, it is truly not pleasant, but only that period of time isn't going to have a change of heart. Yes, you may be a vampire; but I thought I have made it clear that I don't mind." Stefan could see Elena was saying that from the bottom of her heart, but it was the following words that knocked his world off the par, again.

"And who is Damon? Am I supposed to know him?" Elena innocently asked, her brows slightly furrowed, as if she forgot everything happened after Damon appeared.

The realization slammed into and dawned in his mind. There was no _as if_, because this was the truth.

And the scene he had been trying so hard to stash away before he came home was going to make a show, again. And this time, everything fell into place; everything made sense.

Both their swords pierced through the other's heart. It hurt, but it was not fatal at all to vampires, who was immune from almost everything except one.

Stefan backed away quickly to remove the sword stuck out from his body. He hissed in pain where the metal had contact with his flesh while he pulled it out. The sword fell on the floor with a loud clank.

"I think that duel did not quite serve our purpose. It was a tie, I suppose. We are gonna need another one." Stefan did not know whether it was frustration, or rather anticipation that another battle was coming, that was running in his blood, singing in his veins.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but actually there was already a winner." Damon smirked in response, but there was something different in his face, in his tone. It was almost like he was in pain. And he did not remove the sword.

Then he fell, his back landed on the ground first. Stefan could feel his eyes go wide in astonishment, and he was kneeling by Damon's side before he knew it.

"And somehow I was the loser. How pathetic..." Damon sighed dramatically, but he choked on his own blood.

"What are you talking about? And what are you doing lying down here? A sword sticking out from your heart was not an excuse for not going for the next round of battle. Surrender is not an option." Stefan growled, but he did not know whether it was because he would not have another fight for the monster inside, or he was panicking with Damon seeming to die in any moment lying in his pool of blood. He tried to pull the sword out of Damon's chest, but Damon's hand grasped his wrist with a strength that was no match for the state he was in, and stopped him in the track.

"I did not surrender... I died fighting, brother." His voice was getting weaker, but the sarcasm was still there. "There was no use in pulling it now."

Stefan must have shown his surprise on his face, because Damon was chuckling softly at his expression.

"Oh, I still need to do the explanation, don't I? I bet father didn't tell you this. This sword, your sword, was made to kill a vampire." Stefan could feel surprise taking over his feature, but Damon continued speaking before he could respond. "You didn't honestly believe him asking you to learn how to use a sword just for fun, did you? The substance used to make your sword is no metal; it was made by a witch and a sorcerer, and it only melts in blood. More precisely, vampire's blood. And so it would be a wonderful material for covering another thing that made the sword."

"Wood." Stefan understood in horror. Suddenly he felt sick at seeing the blood gushing from his brother's body, seeing the blood smudging his hands. All the desires for bloodlust and the craze were still there, but they were barred behind a portal, and they could no longer come out and dominate his mind.

"Finally, baby brother, a correct answer." Damon seemed that he would have rolled his eyes if not for the situation. But the smugness on his face was fading fast.

Stefan found that he could not speak, he could not even move. His mind was in a jumble, and he could not think straight. Or maybe it was just he did not want to think straight, and came up with an answer too big for him to bear for the rest of his immortal life.

"Why?" The word came out incoherently, and less than even a whisper. But still Stefan knew that Damon understood. He thought he saw a thread of sadness through the broken façade of his always mysterious brother. And he clutched at his left breast pocket, and his face scrunched. Stefan could not make out if it was the wound or anything that was hurting Damon.

"I do what I have to do..." Damon replied, after somehow Stefan considered a long pause. His voice broke at the end, and he never got to finish the sentence.

Stefan found Elena's necklace in Damon's pocket later, after his face turned ashen. He had to untangle Damon's fingers with some force to pull it out.

When Stefan looked at Damon for the final time, he could not be sure if he saw a teardrop slipping across his brother's face, like it was there in his eyes all the time but never got to fall, because his own vision was blurred.

Now Stefan perfectly understood.

Damon had sacrificed himself to bring his mind and reasons back, and sacrificed Elena's memories with him to bring them back together. He had sacrificed everything of his. To set everything between Stefan and Elena right again.

"I do what I have to do..." That was what he said, and never finished.

Yet he did not need to. Because Stefan knew exactly what he wanted to say:

"But never what I want to do."

_Author's note: Cheers! This is really special. Except being the first story here, I posted the ending here today, and it's my birthday. Haha. Care for a review as a present? x) Critics are always welcome. Until next time. _

_- CrKnight_


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